


Reverb

by TheFrenchPress



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Leather, Post-Hogwarts, Romance, Smut, Song Lyrics, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-16 07:49:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29078889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFrenchPress/pseuds/TheFrenchPress
Summary: His lithe form clad in black leather and the rumble of his motorcycle had her returning to the market every week, just so she could catch another glimpse of him before he rode away.One-Shot *complete* SSHG.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Severus Snape
Comments: 9
Kudos: 123





	Reverb

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TINYSCANNER](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TINYSCANNER/gifts).



Disclaimer: All publicly recognisable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author.

\--

Little bits of wintery frost clung to all of the trees, inviting a bone-deep chill into the air. Late autumn was a strange time, with the world on the cusp of two seasons.

Hermione stared straight ahead as she made a hasty path up the street, her arms wrapped tightly around herself to ward off the cold. Her breath was a visible fog as she walked, and even her thick winter mittens were not doing enough to keep her hands warm. She could feel the sharp bite of the cold in her cheeks that were visible over the scarf she wore. Despite being quite happy living in amongst Muggles, Northampton during this time of the year was bitterly cold, and she often wished for the convenience of being able to comfortably Apparate places.

She supposed she could have driven there, but often felt guilty for driving to the market when it was only a couple of blocks away from her house. That, and the fact that the roads were a little slippery, making them rather a nightmare to drive on at times.

Lifting her gloved hands up to her mouth, Hermione huffed her warm breath into them as she continued on her way briskly, trying to keep warm. She had already cast a warming charm on her clothing, but those only went so far, and she always felt the cold. She had a feeling that a little nerve damage had been done to her during the war – an unfortunate side-effect of one too many _Crucio’s_ sent her way be Bellatrix Lestrange. It had been nearly six years since then, and she wondered if it was more or less permanent.

Rounding the corner, she could finally see her local grocer, and picked up the pace. She had her beaded bag slung over her shoulder, and inside she knew she had a few shopping bags she would use to carry her produce home. On arrival, she pushed open the swinging door of the shop, and heard the little ding of the bell to alert the staff to someone entering. She grabbed a shopping basket, and went about the store, piling in all that she would need and then some. She took extra fruit and vegetables because she wanted to avoid having to come back through the week, and hoped that it would last her until at least Friday.

‘Hello, Miss,’ the young shop assistant greeted cheerfully as she plopped her basket down at the register.

‘Hello,’ she replied with a polite smile.

‘Fresh out there today, ain’t it?’

She nodded. ‘You could say that.’

He quickly scanned up all of her purchases, and the two of them loaded her shopping bags up together. Hermione pulled out her Muggle currency and paid for the groceries, and soon had a grocery bag in each hand. She was not looking forward to her walk home, but she knew the longer she put it off, the worse it would be.

‘Be careful heading home, Miss,’ the boy called out to her as she left. ‘Pathways are a bit slippery from frost!’

‘Thank you,’ Hermione said, before walking out of the shop. She made a mental note to ask for his name next time – he was always so polite whenever she saw him there.

Once out the door, the cold hit her like a wall of ice, and she shivered. Putting one foot in front of the other, she began to make her way home.

She was almost at the footpath again when she first heard and then felt the rumble of a motorcycle. It cut through the silent neighbourhood, and she could feel a literal rumble in her stomach. A sleek black motorcycle rolled into view, and she paused for a moment, captivated by it. It was so out of the ordinary for her – she had not seen many motorcycles in this area during the two years she had been living there. The rider of the cycle wore black riding safety leathers, and she could tell that whoever it was, they were tall.

The bike pulled up and came to a stop only a few feet away from her, and she jerked herself hastily out of her reverie. She couldn’t believe she had just stood there gawking in the cold. Shaking her head, she hastily continued on her way, putting some distance between herself, the store, and the man on the motorcycle.

As Hermione walked, she found her mind slipping back to the man on the motorcycle. She had to admit, there was something alluring about him. When she was younger, she had largely viewed them as death on two wheels, but as she had grown, she now had a better understanding of why all of her roommates at Hogwarts had gushed over men on motorcycles. There was an element of danger to it, yes. But there was just something so incredibly sexy about the idea of being so sure of themselves that they were comfortable taking on that life or death risk.

Without even realising it, Hermione began to feel a little flustered. She wasn’t sure why – there had barely even been a moment there to think on. Perhaps it had been too long since the last time she had been physically intimate with another person? Flushing, she kept up her pace and was soon rounding the corner to the row of townhouses on her street. She sidled up to her front door, pulling her house key from her pocket and unlocking it, stepping gratefully into the warmth of her home, pleased that she’d had the forethought to turn on the heating before she’d left.

She carried her groceries through to her kitchen then and began unpacking, busying herself and pushing down any lingering thoughts she was having about the mystery man and his motorcycle.

\--

Come Friday, Hermione had worked her way through all of her groceries for the week as expected, and she would need to make the frigid trek down to the shops once more.

During the week she was able to use the Floo from her fireplace to work at the Ministry. Her friends often asked her why she didn’t just do her shopping in Diagon Alley, but if she was honest, she liked the quiet part of town she lived in, and she wanted to do what she could to stimulate the local economy.

And now - well she had another reason to want to go to the shops.

She had no idea if she would ever see the man or his motorcycle again, but a small part of her was hoping that she might spy him again - and that the next time she might get a look at the mysterious figure who had been living rent-free in her brain for almost an entire week. She felt silly really, but there was just something about him from that seconds-long window that made her hope that she might be fortunate enough to stumble into him. And so it was, after she had finished work for the day, she Floo’d home and deposited her briefcase. She quickly exchanged her Ministry robes for her thick coat, scarf, beanie, and mittens before she would face the brisk cold for the very miniscule chance that she might be able to stalk a total stranger. She sighed and chastised herself for being so ridiculous, but was still out the door and on her way in minutes.

Her walk to the store didn’t feel as tiresome as usual, but she didn’t want to attribute it to anything other than the fact that it was Friday, and she had a whole blissful weekend off to herself.

She walked quickly, her mittened hands stuffed into the pockets of her long coat, and as she came upon the grocer, her pace slowed on seeing the black motorcycle from the week before parked outside. Hermione came to a standstill a few metres away. It was quite the coincidence that she and the owner of said motorcycle happened to both go to the store on the same day… wasn’t it? She had been hoping… but now that she was confronted with the possibility, she was suddenly shy and more than a little anxious.

Snapping herself out of it, she balled her hands up in her gloves. It didn’t matter that they were in the store because they had no idea who she was, or why she was obsessing over them. Steeling herself, she kept walking up to the door, and was surprised when the door was jerked open as she reached up to push it open herself. She was met with a tall wall of black leather, and she followed the zipper up far enough to see a black wool scarf, dark hair pulled back at the nape of the neck, pale skin, a long aquiline nose, and then two very familiar, piercing black eyes.

‘Professor Snape?!’ she exclaimed, startled.

A lone, dark eyebrow quirked up at her, and she saw his thin lip press together as the recognition dawned on him. ‘Miss Granger,’ he greeted quietly in acknowledgement.

She felt her stomach bottom out. She had spent the past week obsessing over her former professor, and there he stood before her, looking ruggedly handsome in his black riding leathers and wholly unlike the man who had taught her for so many years. She had never seen him in anything other than his black, starchy teaching attire. Hell, she hadn’t seen him period in the past four years. At some point he simply stopped attending any Order of the Phoenix parties.

She felt incredibly awkward, standing there gawking at him. He was so close to her though that she could smell him, and he smelled of leather, sandalwood, parchment and mint. It was quite pleasant – yet another thing that sent a decidedly uncomfortable stab of heat to her core. She had no idea what was wrong with her.

‘I didn’t know you lived in the area,’ she finally managed to choke out.

‘I don’t make a habit of telling people where I live.’

His reply was short and clipped, but she could detect a slight reservedness in his tone. She realised then that she was blocking his path, and she hastily stepped backwards to let him exit the store. He nodded at her silently, and strode past her, and she watched as his long legs carried him to his bike with graceful ease. He was as tall and thin as she had remembered, but without all of the layers of billowing teaching robes cloaking his form she was able to see that he had some wiry muscles that she’d not been able to admire before.

She blinked. Had she really just been checking out Severus Snape? She quickly turned away, trying to ignore the flush that stole across her cheeks and travelled down her throat. As she ducked into the store, she heard and felt the loud rumble of his bike as it roared to life, and she cast her eyes over to sneak one last look at her dour former professor briefly as he rode away on his black motorcycle, feeling a gnawing in her gut at the wave of attraction that washed over her as he disappeared from sight.

Realising that she was blocking the shop entryway still, she forced her mind back on task, trying to forget about Snape as she shopped.

\--

The sharp, acrid smell of burning tobacco and smoke wafted through the air, swirling around in the bitter cold.

Severus lifted the cigarette he was holding up to his lips, taking a deep drag from it into his lungs before slowly exhaling. It had been many years since he had indulged in the distasteful habit, but his nerves had been on edge for a week, and in the past he had turned to smoking for the dopamine hit that served as a placebo for stress relief. Despite knowing it was ultimately harming him, he had picked up a packet while he was buying his groceries that day, and leaned on his motorcycle to smoke one on exiting the store.

He knew that the cause of his sudden onset of apprehension was due to the curly-haired young witch who had once been his student. One week before he had run into her on his way out of the market, discovering that she too lived in the area. Which in his mind meant that running into her again was a very real possibility. And while he had to admit, the woman had become quite lovely to look upon, he had spent a great deal of time trying to avoid run-ins with people he knew from his past life as a teacher and spy.

Closing his eyes, he took another drag from the cigarette, holding it in for a little longer than strictly necessary before exhaling and opening his eyes. He shouldn’t have been surprised to see Hermione Granger standing a mere two feet away, staring straight at him wearing the same woollen cap, and long Muggle winter coat as she had been the same time last week. It was his own fault really – she, like him, was a creature of habit, and no doubt visited the market at the same time every week. He had previously done his shop on a different day, but his work had forced him to change his routine recently which was why they were standing there regarding one another in the cold.

‘Those’ll kill you,’ she informed him bluntly.

He chuckled darkly at her opening remark. ‘I am all too aware,’ he replied, using his thumb to flick the end of the filter with the ease of practice, knocking the bit of ash off the end and taking one final drag of it before snuffing the end of it against a nearby lamp post and silently casting a spell to dispose of the butt.

‘I shop here at the same time every week,’ she blurted out suddenly.

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. ‘And you feel this is important to tell me?’

She nodded firmly. ‘If you wanted to avoid running into me every week, well you have all the information you need in order to do so,’ she explained.

Severus was surprised by this. From his limited experience with Gryffindor’s, he was rather expecting her to be for more nosy about his life. Minerva McGonagall came to mind then. He had maintained a friendship with her despite no longer being colleagues, and the woman was quite determined to bully her way into every aspect of his personal life.

‘Good day, Miss Granger,’ he said with a nod.

He grabbed his helmet from the back of his bike, and after ensuring that everything was securely in place, he donned his helmet and riding gloves. Slinging his leg over so he was astride the vehicle, her turned the key and shifted gears with the foot pedal, listening with satisfaction as the motorcycle roared to life.

Without looking back, he drove his motorcycle out of the small parking lot and in the direction of his home, trying to ignore the pit in his stomach at the thought of the pretty witch he had just driven away from.

\--

It continued this way for several weeks, and before too long it had edged into winter, and the streets were lined with the first snow of the season.

Riding his motorcycle was still possible at this stage, as the snow was fairly light, and Severus was a confident but careful rider. He enjoyed the thrill of the ride, even though during the colder months he was less likely to go on longer trips. He was, however, beginning to question his sanity for continuing to return to the grocer at the same time every week – either running into Hermione Granger on his way into or out of the market.

He rather thought that if she truly wanted to avoid him, she could have altered her own shopping habits. It led him to believe that perhaps she was not indifferent to him after all. At the beginning he had tried to ignore his attraction to the slight witch. She was a good head shorter than him, and by all accounts, was quite small beneath the protective layers of her clothing. He could only vaguely guess at what lay beneath all of the warm wool.

It was her intelligent brown eyes, the pert nose, and those beckoningly soft little petals of her lips that held his interest.

They barely exchanged more than a few words, but he was captivated by her. She was clever. There weren’t a lot of women who could hold their own against him in a battle of wits, but she was quick on her feet and gave as good as she got. He enjoyed the woman she had grown into – fiery and confident with none of the awkwardness of her youth remaining. It was good – the less she reminded him of her student days the better. He already felt like the worst kind of letch, lusting after a woman nearly twenty years his junior.

He was removing his helmet in the parking lot of the market and securing it to his motorcycle that evening, when he looked up to see the familiar figure approaching. Removing his riding gloves, he tucked them into the helmet as she approached him.

‘Professor,’ she greeted with a polite nod.

‘Miss Granger,’ he replied.

‘Hermione,’ she challenged, looking directly into his eyes.

‘Severus,’ he said after a moment’s thought.

He felt something pass between them then – an acknowledgement of sorts. Perhaps they were edging past the point of being simple acquaintances? He wasn’t certain. It was outside of his comfort zone, but for some reason he had knowingly allowed himself to be swept up by it and by her.

‘Have you just arrived then?’ she asked.

He nodded, and gestured for her to proceed him into the market. She turned on his heal and sauntered ahead, and he followed behind, appreciating the slightly sway of her hips as she walked. They both took shopping baskets and walked the aisles in companionable silence. He noted that much like himself, she didn’t reach for much in the way of processed foods, opting for fresh vegetables, fruits, grains, and meats. It was the first time they had shopped together, and it felt like an out of body experience for him, and yet oddly domestic.

They went to the counter and the young boy at the checkout processed her sale first, and Severus barely paid attention while he chattered away to Hermione as he served her.

She walked out of the market ahead of him, and his transaction with the boy was a lot more businesslike. As his purchases were scanned through, he wondered if she had already left to make her way home. But after he had paid and walked outside, she was standing and waiting by the door with her shopping on her arm, hands clasped together to ward off the cold. He walked the short distance to his bike and put his purchases in the small compartment the vehicle had for such things, before pulling out his packet of smokes and tapping it against his thigh, pushing one out of it before stashing the box once more.

With a silently cast spell, he lit the end, and turned to face the young woman who was the source of both his interest and anxiety once more.

‘Nothing to say?’ he challenged.

She shook her head. ‘How you end your life is none of my business,’ she quipped.

He chuckled at that comment, taking a long draw from the burning fag between his fingers. ‘You are a peculiar witch,’ he commented idly.

‘How so?’

‘You as good as told me weeks ago that if I didn’t want to see you, I should find another time to shop, and yet every week, you continue to come at the same time without fail.’

He saw her shoulders tense a little at his observation. ‘What of it?’ she bristled.

‘Well such actions lead me to believe that perhaps you aren’t opposed to running into me at the market, Hermione,’ he said smoothly, enjoying every syllable of her name as he said it.

He watched as an attractive flush stole across her cheeks then. ‘And what about you, Severus?’ she asked defiantly, taking a bold step towards him. ‘You’ve had every opportunity to choose a different time to run your errands, and yet here you are.’

He stood there observing her for a moment, trying to decide what his next move should be. They were caught in a game of chicken, and he either had to push ahead, or run away. He took another puff from his smoke before snuffing it and spelling it out of existence, expelling the smoke and striding over to stand before her, looking down at her slightly upturned face. She looked up at him with her wide brown eyes, and watched as the black of her pupil dilated, causing the amber hue of her iris to become a thin band around it.

Before he could talk himself out of it, he slid his right hand into the hair at the base of her neck and cupped her cheek with his left. He looked to her for silent permission, giving her a chance to turn him away. When he saw no protest, he ducked his head down and captured her soft, plump little lips in a gentle kiss that was utterly at odds with his personality.

They stood there, pressed together, their lips moving gently over one another’s for a few moments before he parted from her.

Her lips were flushed and when she opened her eyes he could see that they were sparkling with something he wasn’t familiar with. He released the shaky breath he’d been holding in for the duration of the kiss. Her lips tugged up at the corners in a smile then, and he felt his stomach flip at that, and he dove back in for another kiss that was decidedly not chaste, sliding his questing tongue past her welcoming lips to tangle with her own. She made a small sound of pleasure at the back of her throat, and it only served to impassion him.

When the need for air became paramount, he ended the kiss, nipping gently at her lips before pulling away to catch his breath. His hands were still gently cupping her head, and her shopping bags were now on the ground while her gloved hands had found their way around his neck during their embrace. He removed his hands from her then, and she reluctantly let go of him. He felt one corner of his mouth lift in a lopsided smile, which she returned with a beaming one of her own.

He watched as she reached down and grasped the handles of her shopping bags once more before looking him right in the eye.

‘Same time next week?’

He smirked at her audacity. ‘Same time next week,’ he agreed.

\--

When Hermione made her journey to the market the following week, she felt light – like she was floating on air.

She knew it was silly, but it had been such a long time since she had felt this level of attraction to anyone. All she had been able to think about for the past week was her tall, dark and brooding former professor and the incredible snog they had shared in the carpark. Never in a million years would she have thought she’d be attracted to someone like him. He was the quintessential bad-boy; tattoos, scars, a dark past, the motorcycle and leather, the cigarettes, the aloofness – all of these might have been red flags to her in the past. But with him – well she had gone home the week before with the dampest knickers of her life feeling all hot and bothered.

As she approached the market, she could see that the object of her interest was leaning against his motorcycle, his long, dark hair was not tied back that day and was looking decidedly windswept. It was quite the picture, and she felt an answering throb in her gut as she saw his dark, molten eyes were fixated on her. She took a deep breath to steel herself as she approached him, coming to stand before him and his bike.

‘Hello,’ she greeted awkwardly, all of her bravado fading.

He cocked his head to the side a little as he took her in. ‘Hello.’

‘How was your week?’ she asked, trying to make polite conversation.

She saw his lips turn up in a smirk. ‘Small talk is not your strong suit, Hermione,’ he quipped.

Hermione felt herself flush, and crossed her arms with a huff. ‘I’m a little out of practice,’ she admitted shyly.

He chuckled, and it was a deep, rich sound that wrapped around her like a hot cup of dark chocolate. He turned to open the compartment beneath the seat of his bike, and pulled a helmet out of it before turning back to her. She stared blankly at it in surprise, but he didn’t leave her at a loss for long, and soon carefully fastened the helmet on her head. He allowed her a small smile before putting on his own helmet, and swung his leg over the bike, patting the space behind him.

Wordlessly, as if she were in a daze, she put her hand on his shoulder and hoisted her leg over the bike, grateful that she was wearing trousers that day. She placed her booted feet on the foot pegs and put her arms around him tightly. She had never been on the back of a motorcycle before, and she felt a mixture of excitement and anxiety. A moment later the bike thrummed to life beneath her and she could feel the vibrations all through her body.

He pushed the bike backwards with the ease of practice, and then they took off slowly out of the carpark, turning onto the street.

The cold made it hard for her to keep her eyes open in spite of the visor as they drove through the quiet streets, but she forced herself to squint, not wanting to miss this first experience. She could feel the warmth of Snape’s body through his leathers, and she pressed herself close to his solid back, enjoying the moment. Her hair whipped around wildly in the wind, and she felt a thrill run through her – she immediately understood the lure of driving such a vehicle. He drove them about ten minutes away on the other side of town, and came to a stop out the front of a large old Victorian house. The engine shut off and the street became silent, and she realised that he had brought her to his home.

She carefully swung her leg around and stepped off the motorcycle first, and unclipped the helmet as she waited for her would-be-suitor to disembark. He took her helmet and returned it to the compartment, grabbing the keys to the bike before leading the way towards the picket fence and through the gate onto his property. He walked up the path and to the front door, waving his hand silently over the doorknob. She felt the wards lift on the door and it unlocked with a soft snick.

He grasped her hand then, and opened the door, walking inside and tugging her along with him.

No sooner had the door shut behind them, he was upon her, his large, warm hands cupped both her cheeks and his cool lips captured hers in a sublime kiss. She closed her eyes and surrendered herself to the kiss, grasping the front of his jacket and pulling herself even closer to him. After a few minutes of snogging by his front door, they parted, and she was finally able to take a moment to look around. His house was nothing like she would have expected, but then, she didn’t really know him all that well it seemed. The entryway was tidy and impersonal, and she could see into a sitting room to their right and saw a fireplace and a wall lined with bookshelves. She had a feeling that it was not the only wall of its kind in the house, and was curious to see more. To the left was a dining room, and she could see down the hall past the stairs to the next floor, that the was a modern-looking kitchen.

‘Let me take your coat,’ he murmured, startling her from her musings.

She looked up at him, and unbuttoned her coat, unwinding her scarf and pulling the knit cap from her head. She tucked her gloves into the coat pocket, and he took all of her winter things from her, walking to a cupboard beneath the stairs and hanging them within. She watched with bated breath as he unzipped the leather jacket, sliding it off before hanging it up inside the cupboard alongside hers. He was wearing a simple white button-down shirt beneath it, tucked into the black trousers he was wearing. She noted he had not worn his usual riding pants, but still had the protective boots on.

Screwing up her nerves, she walked towards him putting a hand on his arm, feeling the crisp fabric under her fingers and turning her head up to look at his.

His head dipped down to meet hers and they kissed again, languidly at first but increasing in fervour as she teased his lips with her tongue. She heard a low growl in the back of his throat before he submitted to the kiss, and their tongues did battle, and his hands were on her hips, drawing her close. She felt her stomach flip and wound her arms around his neck, scrambling to be as close to him as was humanly possible.

Without a word he Apparated them and suddenly they were in his bedroom. She saw a large oak bed dominated the room, and the rest of it was furnished quite simply in muted neutral tones. She broke the kiss and her hands immediately went to the buttons of his shirt, beginning at his throat. He allowed her access, and she continued to undress him, pushing the shirt back and taking in his torso. He was liberally littered with scars that criss-crossed over his body – an especially angry-looking one at his throat where Nagini had tried to tear it out. He was thin, but there were muscles and she imagined that in his prime spying days he would have been a little more muscular.

She pushed the fabric from his shoulders, pausing to unbutton the cuffs and allowing the fabric to pool on the floor.

‘Are you certain you want this?’ he rasped, his voice rough with desire.

‘Yes,’ she said quietly, bringing her hands to rest on his chest, skimming across his flesh which was warm and smooth.

‘Last chance to change your mind,’ he warned.

‘I want you,’ she whispered.

His mouth crushed against hers almost violently, and he grasped the bottom of her sweater, inching it up, and pausing his kiss in order to tug it up and off. She reached behind her and unclasped her bra, shrugging out of it and letting it fall to the floor. His eyes widened then, and he resumed exploring her mouth with his own as his long, dexterous fingers danced over the newly exposed flesh, beginning at her collarbone before he dragged his hands down to cup her breasts. His palms seared her skin, and she moaned softly as his calloused digits fondled and lightly pinched her sensitive nipples.

Hermione arched into his touch, releasing his lips as her shaking hands went to the buttons of his fly. She could feel the heat radiating off him, and the distinct bulge behind the placket of his trousers. His hands covered her own, halting them for a moment. He waved a hand and both their shoes magically evaporated and reappeared over by the door before he allowed her to continue. She smiled at his forethought, wondering how he could think of such things when so much of his blood was diverted elsewhere.

Soon she had his trousers unbuttoned and pushed them down his slim hips and past his rear, and he gracefully stepped out of them before turning his attention on her. His fingers sought the invisible zip at the side of her pants, and soon he had them and her knickers down and off in one smooth motion. He left his underwear on, but she could see the outline of his turgid cock straining inside the fabric desperately. He gently nudged her towards the bed, and she slid onto it, propping herself up on her elbows so she could watch him, her legs parted slightly.

His eyes wandered over her, and she felt so desirable then. He pushed his own underwear off and stood before her, his cock jutting out proudly from the thatch of dark hair at his groin that tapered up to a thin trail to his navel. He was pale, in proportion, and not very hairy, which she appreciated. All in all, the man was sex on legs, and she couldn’t wait for him to shag her senseless.

He descended on her then, his mouth immediately latching onto a nipple causing her to gasp in surprise before whimpering as his clever tongue manipulated her already pebbled, sensitive flesh. She felt as though she was on fire, moaning audibly as his fingers sought out and found her centre, sliding through her slick folds and circling her clit. She struggled not to flex her hips upwards as he suckled, nipped, and pinched, sliding his fingers into her and working her into quite a state before her body finally bowed and her orgasm crashed over her.

Her body was still trembling, when he lowered himself between her welcoming thighs, lining himself up and impaling her with his cock without any preamble. He held himself still within her for a moment, breathing hard. She smiled up at him, drawing his head down to herself and supping from his mouth, twining her tongue with his as he slid out of her most of the way before thrusting back in. She felt his hands on her breasts again, massaging and fondling as his hips snapped into hers, pumping into her hard.

‘Gods you are so fucking tight,’ he said through gritted teeth as he pushed his cock into her as deep as he could, his balls slapping against her bottom. ‘You feel fucking incredible, witch.’

‘Harder, Severus,’ she begged breathlessly, her lips whispering over his.

He picked up his pace, increasing his fervour and slipping one of his hands down to circle her clit in counterpoint to his thrusts. Hermione reached down a hand to take over for him, and he sat back on his heels, grasping her knees, and pushing them apart wide as he slammed into her, his pelvic bone crashing into hers. She would no doubt be bruised in places the next day, but she didn’t even care because it was just so good. Their bodies were coated in a thin sheen of sweat, and she was almost certain that the bedroom windows were steaming up from the heat generated by their smouldering forms.

She could feel her body building to climax again, and she sped up her fingers, arching her hips up to meet each and every thrust. Her insides quivered and soon her body milked him, trembling around his shaft and pushing him over the edge. He came with a shout, his hot issue shooting into her, coating her insides with his seed. He continued to pump into her gently as their bodies came down from their mutual pleasure, before finally withdrawing. She felt his hot semen trickle out of her, and saw him gaze down at it thoughtfully, placing his warm palm on her abdomen and murmuring something under his breath. She felt the warmth of a contraception charm followed by a cleansing charm, whisking away the evidence of their ministrations.

The stared at one another silently for a moment, before she shuffled over, and he fell down onto the bed beside her. With another murmured charm, the bedding was warmed and they both scooted beneath the bedclothes, huddling together to warm up. His body spooned hers from behind, his strong arm flung around her, gathering her close. She felt warmth in her chest at the unexpectedly affectionate gesture.

‘I’m going to go ahead and assume I’m invited to stay,’ Hermione said, twisting in his arms so that she was facing him.

‘Assume away,’ he murmured, leaning in her capture her lips in a gentle kiss.

Screwing up her courage then, she decided to just go balls to the wall. ‘And what would you say to me staying for the weekend?’

‘I would say that you’ll have a hard time getting me to let you go after the weekend,’ he replied, eliciting a beaming smile from her.

‘Just so,’ she said quietly.

\--

Morning broke and soft light filtered through a small gap in the curtain, causing the occupants of the bed to stir slightly.

Severus cracked open one sleepy eye, and gazed fondly at his bed companion. Her back was pressed up against his front enticingly, and he could feel his cock beginning to stir from its slumber. He allowed his hand to skim over her soft skin, tracing a line from her shoulder to her hip, stopping to stroke the tender flesh there before sliding further, seeking out the dew between her legs. She moaned softly in her half-sleep state, pressing her bottom against his rapidly inflating erection. He didn’t think twice and simply shifted so that his cock was nudging against her opening, and with a gentle thrust, he was firmly planted within her.

‘Oh gods,’ she moaned as she felt his cock twitch within her, coming to alertness rapidly.

‘Good morning,’ Severus greeted, sliding his hand up to cup and fondle her breast as he began to slowly thrust into her.

‘Oh gods… yes,’ she slurred, reaching a hand behind her blindly to thread into his hair. ‘Good morning, indeed.’

He fucked her slowly, drawing out their passion languidly. She made the most delightfully sinful mewling sounds as his cock stroked within and his fingers rubbed and fondled outside. When she twisted her head around as much as she could, he leaned forward and kissed her, lazily exploring her mouth before pulling away to suckle her throat and the back of her neck. There would be marks later, but they would be easy enough to disguise. He felt her walls beginning to flutter around him, signalling her impending release, and soon she shattered, and her pussy clenched hungrily around his cock as she came.

His own hoarse shout followed shortly after as he spent himself inside her. In the aftermath of their lovemaking, he cast the spells to clean them up and prevent an unexpected surprise, and they snuggled together once more, one of his hands sandwiched between her breasts as she held him to her chest.

‘You are perfect,’ he told her, meaning every word.

She turned in his arms and smiled at him, pressing a kiss to the end of his long nose fondly. It had been a few months since they had started this relationship, and while it had been a little rocky at the start, they had fallen into a comfortable pattern. They both kept their own homes, but would spend every night together at one or the other depending on who got home from work first. Hermione still worked at the Ministry, and he was at St Mungo’s. They’d recently allowed their relationship to become public knowledge, which he had been very reticent about. But Hermione was nothing if not persistent, and he yielded, unable to tell her no.

He closed his eyes then, his body wrapped around hers snuggly, and he wondered how he had ever lived without her. And then it dawned on him – he hadn’t really been living before. Smiling, he dozed off to sleep once more, content in the arms of the woman he had come to love.

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Fin.

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A/N – This little story is dedicated to my dear friend tinyscanner, and was inspired by JOKER’s (slowed + reverb) mix of Zayn’s ‘Sweat’. The animated clip and song lyrics inspired us both! x


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